Taming a Flame
by Lilybud the Storyteller
Summary: Fire is not only destruction. Yes, it can crush you like you're nothing but a measly, insignificant fly, but it can also save your life when you're an inch from death. Fire is just an important part of nature as water or air. It has the power to give life, sustain life, and take life. But do you have the power to wield it?


"Taming a Flame"

By, Lilybud the Storyteller

A _The Last Story_ fanfiction

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to ****_The Last Story_**** or its characters. **

**This story was inspired when Zael goes to the palace's library and hears a snippet of dialogue from Uril, a mage from the Hungry Child quest. Later, Uril mentioned that he burned another book, and how Yurick never messed up with his spells. And, eh, that's how this story came to be…**

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As expected from a library, there were shelves that reached the ceiling, and sturdy tables carrying stacks of books reaching nearly as high. In front of one of those tables stood a young boy with hair the color of moonlight. However, the boy's words were not as serene as the lunar beams…

"I am _sooo_ dead."

Uril hunched over the book, his hands gripping the table's edges until his knuckles turned white. With an effort, he unclenched his hands and reached over.

The charred pages crumbled to ash underneath his fingertips. He jerked back his hand. "That's it," Uril blurted out. "My life is officially over. I am done for." With a groan, he let his head clonk against the wooden table. The smell of smoked paper continued to linger in the musty library air, and with it came the dreaded thought Uril was trying so hard to avoid: the Pyromancer's Trial.

It was an important ritual for every training fire mage in Lazulis Academy to undergo. The series of tests proved whether they were worthy or not of the inferno's deadly power. And there was only one week left before Uril could show he was ready to be a true fire mage. Unfortunately, from where he was standing right now, they might as well prepare the funeral.

The disintegrating book on the table was the third victim he had destroyed this month. Uril hadn't done it on purpose, of course. It was just the last bloody step of Flare that dashed any chances of success. The Pyromancer's Trial tested a mage's ability to summon, sustain, empower, and control an enchanted flame. The young mage could do the first three just fine, but the control part was always the problem.

As soon as he released the ball of fire it would spiral out of control, threatening to scorch everything in its path like a true inferno. Before the relentless blaze could be put out, it would always leave a memento of its destruction. The first time it burnt the neighbor's prized petunias; the second time the flame left only a singed arm of Uril's little sister's teddy bear (Mum was at his throat for days after that); and this time it consumed his book.

The young mage wearily lifted his head just enough so his chin was resting on the table's surface. He puffed his cheeks out like a chipmunk and blew at the ruined manuscript; a flurry of ashes rose from the pages, waltzing in the air like blackened snow. His eyes followed the particles as they slowly landed one by one onto the table.

_And I liked that book, too_, thought Uril glumly. _Maybe I could get Ari to fix it. She's good with repairing spells. _Honestly, any spell other than fire could help. The only thing fire was useful for was destruction, and Uril had enough of that for the moment.

Once again, the young boy let his head bump against the table. He ignored the dull pain in his forehead, too busy worrying over what to do. All that Uril ever wanted was to prove himself, to show he had what it takes to be a legendary mage; one that could rival even Yurick himself. But if Uril didn't pass those blasted tests, then he would never become a full-fledged mage, never be taken seriously, and never be as great as Yurick.

_Wait!_

As if jolted by electricity, Uril's body bolted upright. His eyes grew to wide silver discs as an idea took form.

It was risky, that was for certain.

If his plan failed, he would no doubt humiliate himself for all time.

But if it did work, then he would not only pass his challenge, but also have skills surpassing everyone in his class.

Uril's mind was made up in that moment.

The young mage got to his feet and raced to the library's exit, the scorched book forgotten. Uril was just about to take the first step out of the room, the door already ajar, when a shrill voice made him freeze. "Uril,_ wait!_ Where are you going?"

Resisting the urge to grimace, Uril reluctantly loosened his grip on the door's handle until it slipped from his fingers. Its thud boomed around the otherwise quiet room. It reminded him of a coffin slamming shut. Uril turned around, tilting his head up until he was glaring at the library's second story—or more specifically, at the girl who was leaning over the rail's edge.

As Uril had feared, it was his fellow classmate, Dinah. It was common knowledge the girl had a fierce crush on Yurick—she and the rest of the girls who constantly giggled over his cute braid or something silly like that. While Uril didn't know why braids were so interesting (nor did he care to), he did know if Dinah were to catch a single whiff of his plan, she would stick to him like glue.

No. That can't happen, not now.

"Why are you in such a rush?" called Dinah, peering down at him with intrigued icy-blue eyes. Even from afar, eagerness rolled off the girl in almost tangible waves.

"Nothing of your concern, I'm sure," retorted Uril, pulling the library door open once again. "Now if you excuse me, I really must be—"

"Hold on! Are you going to see Yurick?"

"No! Now go away!" The boy slipped through the door, cutting off any chance of reply. He was just about to break into a run, but a sudden idea made him hesitate. If he melted the door's handle, then Dinah couldn't follow him. However, Uril quickly dismissed the idea; the punishment of not only misusing his magic, but also destroying the palace's property sent a shiver down his spine. Yup, definitely not worth it—not even for trapping Dinah.

Uril began to jog through the palace's hallways, his footsteps echoing on the polished floor tiles. Palace guards and the occasional group of knights were patrolling the corridors—a surprising amount of them could be heard bragging about who was the best—but not one batted an eyelash when Uril went past. It was common for students to visit the palace's library, since it carried the largest amount of information accessible to the public.

Less than ten minutes had passed before Uril found him.

The second most powerful fire mage was standing at one of the castle's many alcoves. Beside Yurick was a darkly clothed woman. She had raven-black hair twisted into a bun and spiked bangs that spilled down the sides of her face.

It took Uril a moment to recognize her as one of Yurick's fellow mercenaries. He warily eyed the woman, letting his footsteps slow before coming to a full stop. Though the young mage wouldn't call himself prejudice, a series of red flags flared up in his mind. It was hard to ignore the distrusting, snide rumors about mercenaries that were passed from ear to ear around the lands.

While Yurick did fit the cold mercenary stereotype, he was also a respected and well-known fire mage; it was why he appealed—while unintentionally—to many of the student mages. But this stranger was a dangerous unknown. She could be a killer with knives hidden up her sleeves for all Uril knew!

However…_lethal_ wasn't the first word to pop into the boy's mind when he regarded the woman.

He would've been lying if he said she wasn't pretty in a gentle, almost motherly sort of way. The kind smile on her face seemed as natural to her as breathing. However, it was the woman's eyes that shattered all illusions that she would ever do him harm. Her eyes seemed to dance with an innocent playfulness, like she could see something others could not, and they held so much openness and trust—a quality not commonly found in people.

It was hard to imagine this fair maiden working—or even associating—with the roguish and infamous line of mercenaries. Nonetheless, the woman was conversing with the master fire mage without aggravating him. And if Uril wasn't very mistaken, Yurick seemed to enjoy talking to her. The closest thing to a smile that Yurick could get spread on his face as he nodded to something the lady said. Seeing this, Uril began to warm even more to the woman. It was an impressive feat to talk to the master mage without being blasted with a fireball.

Swallowing a bundle of nerves, Uril walked over to the mercenaries. Their conversation immediately stopped when he approached, their eyes turning to him in curiosity. While the woman's smile was still there, Yurick's almost-happy expression transformed into his typical frown.

"What do you want?" he said curtly. Irritation was written all over his cold features.

_Good. He's in one of his better moods, _thought Uril. Most of the time Yurick would just snap at a person to shove off and stop bothering him.

Before he could answer, the female mercenary turned to her comrade, a sparkle in her eyes. "Oh, do you two need to discuss secret fire mage secrets?" she asked. Her airy, childlike voice made Uril doubt his earlier suspicion even further.

Yurick's frown deepened. "Mirania, there's no such thing as '_secret fire mage secrets_.' And no, we're not."

"Actually," interrupted Uril, "I was hoping you could help me. You see, Master Yurick, all students attending Lazulis Academy need to pass the Pyromancer's Trial to become a full-fledged fire mage. My test is only one week away though, and I still don't have complete control of the fire spell. And if I don't pass…well, I have to wait another two years to retake it…"

Yurick cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at the boy. "Your point is…?"

The boy's hopeful expression faltered. Suddenly, his brilliant idea seemed not so brilliant. "W-well, since you're fire skills are one of the best, I was hoping you could tutor me," said Uril in a less sure voice. He hastily added, "But I'm a real quick learner! All I need is a lesson or two, and I'm sure I can pass. It won't take up much of you're time, I promise."

Yurick was already shaking his head. "Sorry, but I—"

"Oh, Yurick, it sounds like an excellent idea!"

The two mages whirled at the lady in surprise; both of them had forgotten she was even there. Nevertheless, Mirania didn't seem to notice their shocked expressions. She turned to Yurick and beamed. "Just think about! This is your chance to pass on your knowledge to another talented mage. He can be like an apprentice to carry on your legacy. "

"You make me sound as if I'm an old man," he grumbled.

Uril mentally added, _And I'm nobody's apprentice._ Thankfully, the boy had enough sense to know that luck was turning his way. He kept his mouth shut.

"Look at it this way," insisted Mirania. "You're doing a good deed by helping a fellow mage."

Unfortunately, Yurick didn't look convinced. "Why do I have a feeling there's more to your generosity than meets the eye?"

A blush rushed to the woman's cheeks. She giggled sheepishly, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Well…Ariela's oven broke this morning," she explained. "So she can't warm my favorite honeyed sticky buns, and you know how they taste best when hot."

Her gaze pointedly slid to Uril, who fidgeted uncomfortably. Then as if to prove her point further, Mirania's stomach gave a loud, insistent growl. Uril raised a brow at the unladylike action, but Yurick seemed only exasperated.

"Do I look like a tutor to you?" he snarled to both Uril and the healer. "I won't be snagged into this just because you want warmed sticky—"

Then his eyes fell on Mirania's lowered head, her gaze dropped to the ground. "But wouldn't it be fun?" she mumbled, looking like a puppy who had just been scolded.

There was a sharp _clank_ as Yurick clenched his jaw, unsure of what to say. Normally he would snap that _no, it would not be fun_, but the rare sight of Mirania in such a crestfallen state stilled his tongue. Uril could tell that the master mage had no idea how to react to this deflated Mirania—it was obvious that comforting wasn't his strong suit.

Waiting anxiously for the outcome, the boy's eyes darted back and forth between the two mercenaries. It was clear that a battle of wills was raging on Yurick's troubled face. All the while, Mirania kept her head down and did not say a word, leaving an awkward silence to fill the space. It was a curiosity whether this silent battle occurred often.

At last Yurick sighed. In a dull monotone, he grumbled, "Yes, it would be fun."

A smile tugged at Uril's lips.

And so the training began.

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*l*l*

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**Thanks for taking the time to read the first half of this story! I hope you've enjoyed it.**

**If all goes according to plan, this story will have one more chapter. It may take a little longer to update since I have other projects I'm working on, but I already have a rough (emphasis on ****_rough_****) draft planned out for the next half. I hope you're looking forward to it!**

**If you can, please leave a review! While I love compliments (hint hint), I would also ****_really_**** appreciate some advice on how to improve my writing.**

**Thanks again!**


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